Dear Tabitha

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Dear Tabitha Page 16

by Trudy Stiles


  I’m happy to see the smile back on her face and I pull her into a tight hug.

  “I love you, Tabs.”

  She hasn’t said those words back to me yet, but I know that she loves me. She’s just afraid to admit it to me and herself. It’s okay, because I’ll wait forever to hear those words cross her lips.

  “Let’s order,” she says as she pulls away. She heads into the kitchen to get the menu and I walk toward the Christmas tree in the window. It’s just getting dark outside, so I step on the switch to turn on the tree. Colorful lights reflect off the ornaments, making me want to do something that I haven’t done since I was a kid. I get down on the floor and flip onto my back. Closing my eyes, I slide under the branches of the tree, and then quickly open them to see all of the lights illuminating through the branches. Even though I was only little when Mom died, I remember her doing this with me and Reagan. I remember feeling the branches tickling my nose and how I used to giggle. My sister helped fill in my memories from way back then and I’m thankful that she kept these traditions alive after Mom died. This is and always will be my happy place.

  “What are you doing?” Tabby laughs, and I quickly scoot out from under the tree.

  “Just checking the lights,” I say, slightly embarrassed. “Yup, they all work.” I hesitate to tell her about my happy memories because I don’t want to upset her. I don’t know how many of these memories she had with Trina, and I don’t want to push her into a state of sadness and depression.

  “Okay, good,” she says, placing the Chinese menu in my hand. “I’m having garlic chicken with broccoli and plain lo mein. You can share anything of mine as long as I can share yours.” Seeing a smile spread across her face never gets old.

  “Sounds delicious. I’ll have sesame chicken and rice.” I hand the menu back to her and she grabs her phone. After she places our order, I help her set the table.

  “Fancy plates for Chinese food,” I say and wink at her.

  “Hey, don’t tease. It’s Christmas Eve. Believe me, Chinese food is way fancier than what I was about to cook for us, so it deserves nice tableware.” She laughs as she places the silverware next to the festive holiday plates.

  “I didn’t know you liked Christmas as much as I did,” I say casually.

  “I do now,” she says and smiles warmly. “I’m happy to be starting new traditions. With you.” Her words warm my heart and I’m thrilled to be breaking through her walls.

  We finish setting the table and she proceeds to light several candles that sit in a festive centerpiece. “Ambiance,” she says.

  The dim lighting in the apartment and the glow from the candles accentuate her beauty. I restrain myself from pulling her against me and ravaging her. I want her so much it hurts.

  “You are stunning,” I say softly.

  She seems a little uncomfortable so I divert my eyes back to the tree. We cleaned out the local holiday store of lights and decorations because she was starting from scratch. Dozens of silver, gold, and red glass balls hang from the branches. We also had fun adding a few Smurfs and Sesame Street character ornaments. Her favorites were the porcelain snowflakes that came in all different shapes and sizes. Her eyes lit up as she placed each of them onto the tree. It was like watching a child decorate a tree for the first time, and I hope that someday I’ll be able to witness that with my own children.

  What the fuck is wrong with me? I’m not meant to have children. I should never have children of my own. His blood runs through me, and I’m terrified of becoming the type of father that he was.

  I shake my head to erase the thought and turn back to Tabby.

  “You okay?” she asks with concern on her face.

  “Yeah,” I say and I need to change the subject. “So, Santa’s coming tonight.”

  She laughs out loud. “Haha, where do you think he is right now? I think he just left the UK and is on his way over here to North America.”

  There’s a knock on the door and I assume the Chinese food is here. “I’ll get it,” I say as I reach for my wallet and open the door.

  “Hey, Merry Christmas!”

  Seth! Fuck! What the hell is he doing here? We can’t seem to enjoy any happy occasion without him showing up, and ruining it for me. I can’t show my anger since Tabby is so fond of him, but shit, I can’t believe he’s here.

  “Hi, Seth, c’mon in,” Tabby says from behind me.

  Seriously? Jesus.

  As I shut the door, there is another light knock. Now that must be the Chinese delivery person. I open the door, grab the bags, and hand him way too much money. “Merry Christmas,” I say to him as he thanks me and walks down the stairs. I bring the bags to the table and turn to Tabby. “Dinner is here.”

  “Oh, I’m sorry. This is a bad time, obviously,” Seth says. “I just wanted to bring Tabby’s gift.” He walks over and places a small box under the tree. “I’ll be on my way now.”

  “Seth! You shouldn’t have gotten me anything,” she says, flashing her incredible smile, the smile that should only be for me. “And you just got here. Do you want something to drink? Or join us for dinner? We have plenty of food for the three of us.”

  Is she fucking kidding? I almost open my mouth to stop this insanity but Seth speaks. “Absolutely not! I’m not here to get in the middle of you two lovebirds,” he winks at her. Fucking winks. He walks over to Tabby and pulls her into a tight embrace, kisses her on her forehead, and says, “Merry Christmas, Tabby. I hope it’s wonderful.”

  She looks up at him, smiles and says, “Thank you, Seth.”

  He turns toward me and extends his hand. I keep my hands in my pockets and glare at him until he drops his hand to his side. “Merry Christmas, Alex. Take care of our girl.” He glares back at me and walks past me to the door.

  Tabby watches him leave and when the door closes, she looks at me with fire in her eyes. “What the hell, Alex? Why do you always treat him so horribly?”

  She doesn’t see what I see. He’s in love with her. I can see it in his eyes and the way he treats her. He’s waiting for his moment to pounce, and I’m not going to let that happen. I’ve been patient with their friendship, but I just can’t do it anymore. He and I are going to have words. Soon.

  I look into her eyes and lie. “It’s nothing. I’m just a little jealous of your friendship with him. I want you all to myself.” Wow, that sounds a bit stalkerish. I need to change the subject before she can see how jealous I really am, so I smile and say, “Ready to eat?”

  Her face softens a little bit as she removes the food from the various bags on the table. “Let’s get this food onto our plates and get rid of the evidence that it’s actually takeout.” She laughs. Okay, crisis averted for now.

  We enjoy our dinner, laugh when we both make a mess with the noodles and rice, and eat way too much food. Our conversation stays light, and for that, I’m thankful, because I can’t stand to see her retreat into her thoughts. She has her moments, and I’m just glad this isn’t one of them. This is a happy night, and I plan to make it perfect.

  We clean up the table, and she leans down to blow out the candles.

  “No,” I say quickly, “I like them. Leave them lit, please.” She looks so beautiful in the muted lights. “Let’s just leave the candles and the tree on.”

  “Okay,” she says quietly.

  I put my hand out and pull her toward the Christmas tree. I arrange her fleece blanket on the floor and we sit down, facing each other. I reach for my guitar and she smiles. “You’re going to play a song?” she asks.

  I nod and our eyes lock. Without saying another word, I begin to strum my guitar. She takes a deep breath and her eyes get misty. I get through the intro, softly picking the strings and sing my favorite Christmas song, “Silent Night.” She stares into my eyes the entire time as I softly sing the song that will always remind me of my Mom.

  “Wow, that was beautiful,” she says after a few moments of silence. I place the guitar on the floor behind me and reach for
her hands.

  “So are you,” I whisper as I bring her fingers to my lips. “Merry Christmas, Tabs.”

  She closes her eyes as I kiss each of her fingers. She looks so at peace right now, and I want to keep her in this state. “I love you,” I say to her again.

  “Thank you,” she says as she opens her eyes. The she smiles. “Do you want your present now?”

  “No!” I say quickly. “Presents in the morning.” I reach into my duffle bag behind me. “These are for tonight.” I grin widely as I show her several DVDs that I brought with me.

  “Oh my God! I love these movies!” she screeches. She grabs the DVDs from my hands and jumps up, rushing over to the television and DVD player. She puts one in and grabs the remote control. “C’mon Alex! Grab the blanket and get over here now!” She giggles as she pulls her feet underneath her, and makes room for me next to her. I join her on the couch and pull her into my arms.

  Music begins and we cuddle together to watch Santa Claus is Coming to Town, The Year Without a Santa Claus, and Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer. Hours go by as we snuggle and giggle like little kids, sing the familiar songs together, and at one point, she even acts out the scene where Kris Kringle and the Winter Warlock sing “Put One Foot in Front of the Other”. I chuckle as she walks across the floor of her living room, mimicking Winter’s first steps in the snow. It’s ironic that the scene she’s acting out represents the character’s outer shell melting. I hope that’s what I’m witnessing in real life with her.

  She joins me back on the couch and leans into my chest. My heart pounds as I realize that I would die for this girl. I love her so fucking much.

  We watch every single DVD I brought with me, and she eventually falls asleep across my lap. I smooth her hair away from her face and see the fading scar on her cheek. My chest clenches as I glance at the Portland coffee table book. I hate that she has to try to replace awful memories of that place with pretty pictures in a book. It disgusts me what that fucker did to her. I lightly trace the scar with my fingertip, trying to erase his mark. She stirs slightly and stretches out her legs.

  The candles flicker, and when I look at the clock, I see that it’s one in the morning and Santa is late. I quietly get up, blow out the candles, and place my gifts under her tree. She looks so comfortable on the couch, but we both can’t sleep there. I go into her room to turn down her sheets and pause for a moment to look around. It’s all white and her bed looks comfortable and soft. I can’t wait to be in here with her.

  I go back into the living room and scoop her up into my arms. She throws her arms around my neck and nuzzles into my chest. Placing her on the bed, I take in all of her beauty. She tucks her hands under the pillow and softly snores. I step out of my jeans and slide in next to her, molding her body into mine. I wrap my arms around her waist and nuzzle my face into her neck. “I love you, Tabs. Merry Christmas,” I say into her hair. I hold on tight to the love of my life and contently drift off into a dreamless sleep.

  Present

  Age 24

  THE PAST few days have been a whirlwind. It’s barely one o’clock in the afternoon and my entire life has been turned upside down. Yesterday, I woke up with Alex in my apartment and told him the truth about Emily. Then, I found the letter from Marta and finally read it. After sleeping on it last night, I mustered up the courage and spoke with Marta this morning and learned that she’s dying and needs me to take Sara back home with me.

  Now, I’m sitting on an airplane for the first time in my life and I’m petrified. The last time I made this trip across the county, I did it on several buses. I’ve already taken my anxiety medication, and I’m waiting for the tension to leave my body. My forehead leans against the rim of the small window as I watch our ascent through the clouds. I lose feeling in my fingertips because I’m squeezing the armrest so tight.

  “Takeoff is the worst part. It will get better,” a voice says to my left.

  I turn to the guy next to me and nod. “Thanks, I’ll be okay.”

  “Going home?” he asks.

  Ha! Far from it. Portland was never my home. It was my prison. I realize that he’s making small talk to keep me calm, but I don’t feel like I can do this. My anxiety is at an all time high, and I can’t help but feel like the plane is closing in around me, about to explode. Irrational thoughts cause my heart to race and I break out in a cold sweat. I clutch my chest as my breathing becomes shallow.

  He pulls a new bottle of water from the seat in front of him. “Here, take small sips. You’ll feel better.” He places the bottle in my hand and breaks the seal around the lid, twisting it open.

  I nod and place it to my lips.

  “Small sips,” he repeats, and I do as he says. He encourages me to drink more water and talks to me through the entire takeoff.

  I hear two chimes over the intercom and a muffled voice. “We’ve reached cruising altitude. You’re free to get up and move about the cabin. Portable electronic devices are now permitted. Our flight time will be approximately five hours and eighteen minutes. Local time in Portland is ten AM. Enjoy your flight.” The voice trails off and I place the bottle of water in the seat back in front of me.

  “You don’t want this back, do you?” I ask him.

  He chuckles and his smile calms me. “No, I’m glad it helped you relax.” He reaches his hand out and takes mine, shaking slowly. “I’m Jason and I’m happy to have saved another flier from takeoff anxiety.” He slowly pumps our enjoined hands up and down.

  My hands are so clammy that it embarrasses me to be shaking his hand.

  “Hi Jason, I’m Tabitha.”

  He’s an attractive man who appears to be in his mid to late thirties, clean cut, and dressed casually, with a hint of professional thrown in. He confirms my observation by letting go of my hand and pulling his laptop out from under the seat in front of him.

  As he’s logging on to his machine, he says, “I assume you don’t fly very often?”

  “No. This is my first time on an airplane, ever.” I can’t believe in my almost twenty five years on this planet, that this is the first time I’ve stepped on an airplane. I mean, it’s not like I’ve ever had the opportunity.

  He turns toward me and his eyes soften a little. “Really? Wow, I’ve never traveled next to someone who’s a newbie flier. Again, I’m glad that I could be of some assistance.” He flashes his confident smile.

  I feel the calm come over me as the Xanax takes effect. I rarely take these meds anymore because I don’t usually need them. I haven’t had a heavy-duty anxiety attack in a long time, but stepping on a plane changed that.

  “I’m sorry about before, you know, during takeoff. That was a little intense for me.” I begin to relax more as I look out the window, taking in the beautiful view from above the clouds.

  “Hey, no big deal. You know, I thought you were going to pass out, and I wanted to make sure that didn’t happen.” He taps his fingers on the keys of his laptop. It’s hard not to peek at what he’s doing. He opens up a document and types feverishly.

  “No peeking.” He chuckles. “This won’t be released for a few weeks, and advanced preview copies aren’t available yet. I’m working on edits now.” He winks and turns back toward his laptop.

  “You’re a writer?” I ask. Wow, that’s pretty cool. I meet so many writers at the bookstore while organizing and hosting small signing events, but every time I meet a new one, I’m always in awe. It takes a lot to bear your soul to the world like they do everyday through their art.

  “Yes. Shhh, don’t tell anyone. I wouldn’t want my cover blown.” He turns to face me again. “By the way, you just made it into my book.”

  “Ha! Wait, what?” I’m stunned. I made it into his book?

  “Yes, you’re an ‘anxious young woman, traveling across the country for the first time, escaping her demons, hoping for redemption’.” He reads from his computer screen and flashes his smile again.

  “Oh, really? Is that what you think I’m doing?
Escaping?” I am mildly insulted that he thinks I’m running away, but his observations are pretty acute. I’m definitely running, just not away.

  “Aren’t you?” he asks, raising his eyebrows.

  “As a matter of fact, I’m not escaping. But I’m going to see someone that I haven’t seen in … in a long time.” Tears sting my eyes as the reality of what I’m doing hits me. Quickly swiping the dampness from my cheeks, I turn back to him. “I’ve been to Portland before. The last time I was here, I barely escaped with my life. I’m going back to say goodbye to some old demons and start fresh with someone very important to me.” Why am I telling him this? I watch as his fingers fly over the keyboard.

  “Sounds like you just became a very intriguing character in my book, Tabitha. I think my readers and I are going to want to know more. Do we tell them more, or do we leave them with a bit of a cliffhanger?”

  This is so weird, but I feel like I want to tell him everything. “I don’t know what I should say, Jason. This is a little weird, don’t you think?”

  “I meet fascinating people every day, but you’re the first one in a long time that I’ve wanted to know more about. There’s just something about you. You just seem different, and I want to know more. I think I need to know more.” He’s genuinely interested and not being flirtatious, I think. Something about him just seems comfortable. He reminds me of Seth and how he was when we were just friends, before we attempted a relationship. But there is also something so familiar about him that I can’t quite put my finger on.

  “I may need to stay a mystery, for now.” I smile and lean back into my seat.

  “I don’t think so,” he responds as his fingers continue to click on the keys. “Your character just became a major distraction for the main character in the book. He’s trying to remain committed in his relationship, but your character comes along and all he wants to do is help her. To fix her. To protect her.”

  My cheeks flush and I begin to get a little uncomfortable. “Okay…,” I say as I turn to look into the bright clouds.

 

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